Sometimes I meet teens who are miserable in the middle of their senior years. I am always cautious about how to talk with them. On the one hand, I’m confident of our approach and the pros and cons of opting out, even at such a late moment in a high school career. I have successfully supported several such students to opt-out and get a six-month head start on their lives with no repercussions. On the other hand, I know that sometimes the information such can be annoying, unsettling, and unwelcome. I have occasionally set teens to tears, asking me, “If what you say is true, does that mean all of the stress I’ve gone through the past three years was unnecessary?”
Over Thanksgiving, I visited my parents in Shaker Heights, OH, where I grew up and attended public schools. Shaker is known for its motto, “A community is known by the schools it keeps
Shaker schools are well-respected and they aim to send all of their graduates to college. High school students face the high expectations and pressure to excel that is familiar for many teens in our country. Many of my parents’ friends have been very interested and supportive of my work with North Star, but I try to lay low with their acquaintances who don’t know what I do. Here’s an interesting moment from the trip:
A friendly neighbor came over to loan us a football. She is the mother of two teens, one who has recently graduated, and one who is a senior in high school this year. I asked how everyone in her family was doing. She rolled her eyes and apologized that her son had not gone on to college, and was working in a restaurant while he tried to “figure out what he wants to do with himself.” I told her not to feel self-conscious with me, and that I celebrate teens who take a year to work rather than just go to college for the sake of it. The mother brightened a bit, and told me, “Well, he did take a culinary class, and he really enjoyed the knives. He came home and said, ‘Mom, do you have anything that needs chopping around here?'” I offered my full enthusiasm for the story and for trusting her son’s process and timeline.
Then, it got trickier. Her daughter, she said, ….just hates school this year. She is so done with it. All of the college application stress is killing her. She says her lifelong friends are all feeling tense and competitive with each other. She doesn’t want to go at all, and just can’t wait to be done.” She shook her head sadly, imagining the coming eight months of cajoling and supporting her daughter to hang in through graduation.
I considered how to respond to this story. I’m not the mother’s friend. She is not asking for advice. She vaguely knows I do something with alternative education, but figures it has nothing to do with her situation. I did not think she wanted me to launch into the option of having her teen stop going to school this month.
I chose to say very little, though I offered to talk with the daughter if she really wanted to consider any other possibilities. I didn’t press much, the offer was ignored, and the mom left.
I chuckled. I tried to imagine what I would say to the young woman, over Thanksgiving vacation of her senior year. How about:
Ken: I hear you are feeling done with your high school experience.
Daughter: Yep.
K: Well, I have two questions for you. First, what’s the most normal, conventional way
to respond to this situation?
D: Suck it up and finish the year.
K: Second, what’s the most outrageous, unconventional way to respond to this
situation?
D: Huh? What do you mean? I don’t know.
K: Hmmm. Well, for example, you could just stop going to school. Now. Don’t go back
after Thanksgiving vacation. Don’t finish your senior year.
D: What? And ruin my life? Are you crazy? What are you talking about?
Those of you familiar with our approach and the world of self-directed learning know how the conversation would proceed. I could have told her that young people who opt out of going through the motions at high school do all sorts of interesting things instead: work at a job, have an internship, take a community college course, travel, live with relatives in a different part of the country, and so on.
In this case, the neighbor could withdraw from a toxic social situation. She could write a letter accompanying her college applications explaining that she hit the wall with high school, but expects to be all set for next September. If the high school refused to issue her a diploma (many high school seniors have amassed enough credits to graduate early,) she could get the GED easily enough. Believe it or not, she would remain a competitive applicant for colleges. In fact, her gumption might even be more inspiring than disqualifying in her college admissions pursuits.
What we know is that her mental health would improve. Her family relations would improve. She might discover some self-confidence in bucking the system and coming out okay for doing so. She might enjoy the next eight months of her life.
I didn’t say anything of these things, except to my brother when we went for a walk later. I asked him if he thought I should have been more assertive. He was pretty sure that my ideas would not have been welcome.
Whenever I meet a new teen, of any age, I always start with the statement that “Option A” would mean simply finishing high school in the expected way. Then, I’m fully sincere when I tell young people that rather than ‘dropping out,’ they would be seizing a nine-month (or multi-year) head start on life. However, I wonder how forceful to be when I’m not on my own turf, and when people aren’t really asking for my input about options. I feel especially self-conscious when I’m visiting my childhood community, where I had a very positive public school experience. I see it as two sides of a coin: being helpful and informative vs. being pushy and annoying. I don’t always know quite how to manage it. Sometimes I just flip the coin and see how it lands.